GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

sxCLARA INGRAM JUDSON 



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Good - N ight Stories 


BY 

CLARA INGRAM JUDSON 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

CLARA POWERS WILSON 



CHICAGO 

A. C. McCLURG k CO. 

1916 



Copyright 

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

1916 


Published November, 1916 



NOV -9 1916 


W. F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CHICAGO 


©Cl.A4463(l4 

h 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Bobby Cottontail’s Bear 1 

Five Little Doves 11 

How Do You Sleep? 16 

The Squirrel’s New Pantry 21 

A Bird School 25 

The Fat Garden Toad 29 

The Cardinal’s Breakfast 34 

The City-Broke Squirrel 38 

The Greedy Blackbird 42 

Butterflies . . 46 

Mr. and Mrs. Robin 50 

Five Little Robins 54 

An Imitation Shower 57 

Three Baby Robins 61 

The Empty Nest 65 

The Caterpillar 69 

Two Mistakes 73 

House Hunting . 77 

A Bear Story 31 

A Blackbird Joke 84 

The Early Worm 88 

Seven Little Pigs 92 

Pride and a Fall 97 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Blackbird’s Bath 101 

A Foolish Old Rooster 105 

Sue’s Present 108 

Mr. Robin Changes His Mind 112 

Kitty Lou’s Toothache 117 

Gala Day in Squirrel Land 120 

A Highly Cultivated Mouse 124 

Brown Tail’s Adventure 128 


GOOD NIGHT STORIES 



/ 




Good-Night 

Stories 

BOBBY COTTONTAIL’S BEAR 

T^OWN in a corner of the wood, in a 
comfortable old beech tree, lived Mr. 
Billy Racoon. He was sturdy and plump 
and so very industrious that he never lacked 
for food. 

One day in the early fall, Bobby Cotton- 
tail, a lively little white and gray rabbit who 
lived near by, started in search of adventure 
and a good time, and as he passed the beech 
tree, who should he spy but Billy Racoon ! 

“ Hello, there ! ” he called, “ what you 
doing this morning, Billy? ” 

I’m not doing anytliing — yet,” replied 
Billy, “ what are you? ” 

[ 1 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


Bobby sat down at the foot of the tree. 
“ I’m going deep into the wood,” he said 
solemnly, “ and I’m going to have some 
wonderful adventures.” 

“You don’t say so?” said Billy, and he 
was so interested he was nearly envious. He 
slowly climbed down the tree toward Bobby. 
“ You’re always having luck,” he said; “ do 
tell me all that you are going to do today.” 

That was exactly what Bobby Cottontail 
wanted to do. He licked his chops, straight- 
ened a hair or two in his tail and began. 
“ First I shall go from here into the forest — 
into the dark and gloomy forest.” 

“Dear me,” interrupted Billy Racoon, 
“ won’t you be afraid? ” 

“Me? Afraid?” exclaimed Bobby Cot- 
tontail, “ you must be thinking of someone 
else. I’m never afraid! ” 

Billy Racoon was quite ashamed of him- 
self (as Bobby intended he should be) and 
he resolved never again to interrupt. “ No, 
of course you wouldn’t be,” he said in an 
[ 2 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


effort to make himself right with Bobby, 
“ but I would be. That’s what I was think- 
ing of, you see.” 

“ Well, I’m not afraid of anything,” said 
Bobby quite mollified, “ so you mustn’t judge 
me by yourself.” 

“I won’t,” replied Billy humbly; “but 
what will you do next? ” 

“Oh, next?” asked Bobby Cottontail, 
“ well. I’ll hunt up the biggest bear I can 
find.” 

Billy Racoon gulped. He was so im- 
pressed he simply couldn’t say one word. 

“ And then,” continued Bobby, “ I’ll say 
to him, ‘ You get out of this wood or I’ll 
fight you,’ that’s just what I’ll say to him! ” 

Billy Racoon heaved a sigh. “ Oh, but 
you are brave, Bobby,” he exclaimed. “ I’m 
so glad I know you ! ” And then he hap- 
pened to think of something. “ But sup- 
pose he fights back? What will you do 
then?” 

“ Never fear,” replied Bobby grandly, 

[s] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ he won’t. He will know that I’d simply 
jump at his throat and eat him up. Oh, I’d 
do it — if he didn’t behave — and he knows 
it!” 

Billy Racoon was trembling with enthusi- 
asm. “ Come, let’s go right away,” he cried. 

“ Oh, what’s the hurry? ” asked Bobby, “ I 
like to visit with you.” 

“ But I want to see you kill the bear,” 
insisted Billy. “ I think it’s going to be won- 
derful.” 

“ Yes, it will be,” said Bobby, “ but I don’t 
feel like hurrying otF the very first minute I 
come. I like to talk with you.” 

“ That’s nice of you, Bobby,” said Billy, 
“ for I know it must be stupid to talk to an 
uninteresting person like I am. But I’ll 
excuse you this time. Don’t mind about me. 
Just run along to the bear.” 

“Well — er — a — all right,” said Bob- 
by, “ but hadn’t you better go with me? ” 

“ Of course I had intended to follow 
where I could see what you were doing,” 
[ 1 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


admitted Billy, “ but I couldn’t go right 
along with you. I’m not brave as you are 
you know.” 

“ Never mind,” answered Bobby, “ you’ll 
learn. And anyway. I’ll protect you. You’ll 
have nothing to fear. Now I’ll tell you a 
good plan. You go ahead a little way and 
then if you see a bear, you run to shelter and 
I’ll take care of him.” 

Billy Racoon didn’t think much of that 
idea, but he didn’t like to seem a coward. So 
he came slowly down from his tree and 
started for the forest, the dark and gloomy 
forest. Without even so much as a look 
behind him (he was scared to look for fear a 
bear would pop out and eat him) he walked 
on and on into the forest. 

And Bobby Cottontail? He let Billy get 
a good start and then he followed along 
behind watching carefully to the right and to 
the left as he went. 

“ I don’t see any bear,” said Billy, in a 
trembly voice. 


[ 5 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ No, of course not this soon,” replied 
Bobby; “we’re not deep enough in the 
f orest. Y ou keep on watching and don’t look 
around behind, Billy. I’m taking care of 
you.” 

So they went deeper and deeper into the 
forest. 

Now it seemed to Billy Racoon that Bobby 
Cottontail’s voice sounded very far away. 
But he was afraid to look around so he didn’t 
find out that Bobby was way far behind, way, 
ucay behind. 

So they went deeper and deeper into the 
forest. 

“ Don’t you think that you’d better go 
ahead now? ” asked Billy. “ It’s pretty near 
time to find the bear now and you know I’m 
not as brave as you are.” 

“ Well, it’s time you learned to be brave,” 
said Bobby loudly. “ Think how proud 
you’ll be when you can go back and tell the 
other racoons that you explored with me 
into the dark and gloomy forest, and that 
[ 6 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


you found a bear — and — well, and all that, 
you know.” 

“ I am thinking about that,” said Billy, 
“ but I can’t help thinking about the bear 
too.” 

“ Pooh ! ” twitted Bobby, “ who’s afraid of 
a bear? Nothing but a bunch of fur and 
growl ! I’m sure you’re not such a coward as 
to be afraid of that.” 

Billy Racoon wasn’t so sure but he gulped 
and didn’t say anything for a minute. Then 
he remarked, “ Seems to me your voice 
sounds so far off. Don’t get too far be- 
hind.” 

Xow Bobby had been lagging further and 
further behind, but of course he didn’t want 
Billy Racoon to find that out. So he spoke 
up real loud and firm. “ Oh you just think 
that, because you’re a little scary. I’m right 
here and I’ni taking care of you.” 

And so they went deeper and deeper into 
the forest. 

Billy Racoon went walking right along 
[ 7 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


and walking right along — and he didn’t say 
another word. To tell the truth, every time 
he tried to speak he got a great lump of 
’fraidness in his throat and he couldn’t get the 
words out — they couldn’t get past the lump ! 

And so they went deeper and deeper into 
the forest. 

Then, all of a sudden, right in front of 
Billy Racoon, there sounded — a great — 
big — GROWL! A loud — fierce — 
GR— OWL! 

The lump of ’fraidness in Billy Racoon’s 
throat got so big it spread all over his whole 
body — over his body and down his legs so 
that he couldn’t move a step. Then, quite as 
suddenly, the lump vanished; strength came 
into Billy Racoon’s legs and he turned and 
ran and ran and ran; ran till he reached his 
own home tree; climbed up into the branches, 
himg himself up by one hind foot and one 
fore foot and pretended he was asleep. 

Later in the day, when he had recovered 
from his fright enough to open one eye, 
[ 8 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


he spied Bobby Cottontail skipping by. 
“ Hello, there, Bobby,” he called, “ did he 
fight very long? ” 

“ Who fight? ” asked Bobby with interest. 
“ The bear, of course,” replied Billy. 

“ I didn’t see any bear,” said Bobby, and 
then he added. 



[ 9 ] 



GOOD NIGHT STORIES 


lowed you quite a way into the forest and 
then I happened to remember an errand my 
mother had told me to do — and I always 
mind my mother, you know — so I ran back 
and did the errand,” 

Billy Racoon looked hard at Bobby. “ So 
that’s the way you kill a bear is it? ” he ex- 
claimed in disgust. “ You’re just as big a 
' coward as I am and I’ve found it out ! ” 

And Bobby Cottontail couldn’t think of a 
single thing to say so he just dropped his 
tail limply and sneaked off home. 


[ 10 ] 


FIVE LITTLE DOVES 


T N a great wire cage in a certain museum 
of birds, there once lived five little doves. 
They were sleek and dainty and they always 
had a nice clean cage and plenty to eat. 
Therefore their neighbor, the owl, was much 
surprised one fine day to hear them complain- 
ing about their hard, hard life. 

“ Of all creatures on earth we are the most 
unfortunate ! ’’ groaned one dove. 

“Alas! Alas! for our sad lot!’' sighed 
another. 

“ Ah me! I wish I were dead! ” wept a 
third. 

“ Misery is ours! ” cried a fourth. 

“ Ah, but our lot is hard ! ” sighed the fifth. 

“ Well at least you agree about it,” ex- 
claimed the old owl, tartly. “ To hear you 
five doves talk one would think you were a 
[n] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

trouble trust; that you had a monopoly on 
all the trouble in the world! ” 

“ Monopoly? asked the first dove, forget- 
ting his misery for the minute, “ what’s 
that? ” 

“Please, Mr. Owl, don’t use such big 
words,” said the second dove before the owl 
had time to answer the first dove’s question, 
“ there is trouble enough in the world with- 
out your adding to it. What is tliis monopoly 
you speak of? ” 

“ It’s what you’ve got,” said the owl 
crossly, for he was now much provoked with 
them. “ It’s all the trouble in the world 
locked up with an iron chain and hung around 
your neck — that’s what it is! ” 

The doves looked at each other carefully. 
Sometimes Mr. Owl made fun of them in 
his solemn way — and that was very hard 
to endure because he always laughed at them 
afterwards. But his face was very solemn 
just now so they decided that he must be 
talking seriously. 


[ 12 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘ Yes, that’s just what we have,” agreed 
the first dove, “ all the trouble in the world.” 

“ Well,” said the owl, as he drew up one 
foot and squeezed the toes to rest himself, 
“ you must admit there’s one good thing 
about that state of afF airs — if you have all 
the trouble, nobody else has any. And of 
course that’s very nice for everybody else.” 
And he blinked his left eye and looked at the 
five sorrowful doves. 

Then he noticed that they really did look 
sad and he was moved to say kindly, But 
what may your trouble be? ” 

That was just what the doves wanted him 
to say. For as you veiy well know, the only 
good thing about having trouble is the fun 
of telling other folks about it. The doves 
brightened noticeably and the biggest one 
said, “ Alas ! This is our trouble, we cannot 
sleep in the daytime!” And he said it as 
though it was the worst thing that could hap- 
pen. 

Why not? ” asked the owl. 

[ 13 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ If we sleep by day, we’ll be sure to miss 
something that happens in front of our 
cage.” And just to prove what a gi’eat 
trouble that really was, every dove heaved 
a great big sigh. 

“ But did it ever occur to you,” asked the 
owl, and he tried to look serious as the doves 
wanted him to, “ that you might take turns at 
sleeping? Then the one who stayed awake 
could watch and report to the others all that 
happened while they slept? ” 

“ No,” said the five doves all together, “ it 
didn’t occur to us. But it sounds like a good 
idea. We’ll try it.” 

So they counted out and the one who was 
“ it ” stayed awake and the others took a 
long, comfortable nap. And then the next in 
turn let the first dove sleep. And so on ever 
after. 

And that is the reason why, at that particu- 
lar museum, you so often see four little doves 
huddled together sound asleep and one little 
dove keeping watch. 

[ 34 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


Moreover, if you stand very long watch- 
ing them, you may even hear Mr. Owl in his 
near-by cage whisper softly, “ that’s the way 
with trouble! That’s the way with trouble! 
Nothing’s so bad after all! ” 


[ 15 ] 



HOW DO YOU SLEEP? 


A TINY little field mouse named Gray 
^ ^ Coat waked uj) one morning with a 
stitch in his side. Not a really truly stitch 
made with a thread and needle you under- 
stand, but one of those funny little ach}^ pains 
that you sometimes get in your side when 
you have lain crookedly in your sleep. * 

“ Ouch! That hurts! ” he squeaked as he 
moved a little too quickly. 

“ What’s the matter, Gray Coat? ” asked 
Furry. Furry was Gray Coat’s mate — the 
j oiliest, most industrious little mate you 
could possibly imagine. 

[ 16 ] 



GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“ Oh, IVe such a dreadful pain in my 
side! ” grumbled Gray Coat, “ I don’t believe 
anybody ever had such a bad pain before 1 ” 

“Tut! Tut! That’s a foolish way to 
talk,” said Furry pleasantly. “ How about 
that time when you caught your foot in a 
trap ? Didn’t that hurt worse than now ? ” 

Gray Coat knew perfectly well that it did, 
but he didn’t like to admit it; so he just 
pretended to be rubbing his sore side very 
hard. Furry was a wise little field mouse 
and she knew better than to try to make 
Gray Coat talk just then. 

“ I think the trouble is that you slept 
crookedly on your side,” she said comfort- 
ingly. 

“ That’s true,” said Gray Coat, much 
pleased that she had thought of a reason for 
the hurt, ‘‘ and I mean to get a different way 
to sleep.” 

Furry laughed. “ There’s no different 
way to sleep! You’re joking! ” 

“ I’m not so sure about that,” replied Gray 
[ 17 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


Coat, “anyway I can inquire;’’ and just at 
that minute who should come by but their 
friend Mr. Bat. 

“ Oh, Mr. Bat, come here,” called Gray 
Coat, “ I’d like to speak to you a minute.” 

“ Very well, here I am,” replied Mr. Bat 
kindly. (You see he was always very 
friendly and nice because he was a sort of 
a second cousin to the field mice.) “ Only 
please don’t keep me veiy long because it’s 
already passed my bedtime and I’m very 
sleepy.” 

“ I won’t,” promised Gray Coat, “ because 
that’s the very thing I want to talk to you 
about. How do you sleep? ” 

“ How do I sleep? ” asked Mr. Bat in sur- 
prise, “ why I sleep all day with my eyes 
shut tight.” 

“ That’s not what he means,” explained 
Furry. “ You see, he has a pain in his side 
from lying crookedly, and he wants to know 
if you can tell him a better way to sleep.” 

“ There’s only one way to sleep,” ^aid Mr. 

[ 18 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


Bat positively ; “ that is with your feet 
hooked up and your head hanging down.’' 

“ Oh, Mr. Bat! ” exclaimed the two field 
mice. 

“ So, so,” said Mr. Bat, “ you see you have 
come to the right person. I’ll show you a 
much better way to sleep than curled up in 
a ball — I should think your side would hurt ! 
Now look at me. This is the only way to 
sleep.” 

Furry and Gray Coat followed Mr. Bat 
into the dusty hollow of an old stump. And 
what do you suppose he did there ? He hung 
himself up on the side of the wall. Hung 
himself by his toes — head down. Think of 
that! 

“ That is the only comfortable way to 
sleep ! ” said he and off he went into a doze. 

Furry and Gray Coat looked at him in 
amazement. And then they both shook their 
heads. 

That may suit him,” said Gray Coat 
finally, “ but for me. I’ll lay down on the 

[ 19 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


soft bark or grass even if I do sleep crookedly 
sometimes.” 

And off he scampered without another 
thought of his hurt side. 



[ 20 ] 


THE SQUIRREL’S NEW PANTRY 



WO little wide-awake squirrels hunted 


^ so many nuts that they could hardly 
find places enough in which to put them all. 

“ Oh, my dear tail,” said Bushy (that was 
a favorite expression of his), “wherever 
am I going to put this last batch of nuts? ” 

“ Don’t ask me! ” exclaimed White Spot, 
“ I am having troubles of my own. Every 
nook and corner I can find is full.” 

“No use going up your tree to look then, 
is there ? ” asked Bushy. 

“ None at all,” replied White Spot, and he 
took one more squint around to see if he 
couldn’t possibly get a bright idea about 
another storing place. 

“ What’s up there? ” he asked suddenly. 

“Up where?” said Bushy craning his 
neck. 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ Silly! ” laughed White Spot, “ can’t you 
see? ” 

Bushy craned his neck this way and that 
in his effort to see around the yard. Yes 
there was something new there. Something 
that looked exactly like a tiny little brown 
house perched up on a big, tall pole. You 
see. Bushy and White Spot couldn’t know 
as you and I do, that that queer new some- 
thing was a handsome, brand-new wren 
house that was put there only that same 
morning. And not knowing, of course they 
were puzzled. 

“ Now I wonder when that came? ” said 
White Spot. 

“ I don’t care a wag when it came,” said 
Bushy, “ but I do mean to find out what it is.” 
He looked all around the yard to see if the 
coast was clear, then he scampered over as 
fast as ever he could go to the foot of the 
pole. There he stopped f or a cautious exami- 
nation. 

You see Bushy was very brave, but he 
[ 22 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


didn’t believe in running into trouble — not 
he! He always enquired into new things 
very carefully. This time he nibbled at the 
pole and then he called to White Spot, “ This 
seems to be a very common sort of wooden 
pole. I mean to climb up.” And up he went. 

At the top he found the cunningest little 
bird house you ever saw. It was made of 
brown, weathered oak and had a porch, some 
tiny windows, and a tiny, tiny door. Bushy 
admired and explored and then called down 
to White Spot, “ This is the finest place for 
storing nuts you ever saw ! The only trouble 
is the door. It’s entirely too small, but I shall 
soon gnaw my way in, never fear.” And he 
set to work. 

In a very short time he had made that 
opening plenty big and then he ran down to 
the ground for nuts. Both he and White 
Spot worked diligently and happily till the 
wren house was all cluttered full of nuts — 
and just then the man who had put up the 
wren house came home. 

[2S] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


He spied the squirrels scampering down 
the pole. He saw the gnawed doorway and 
he suspected the clutter of nuts that was 
inside. And it made him very angry. 

“ I bought that house for birds,” said he 
crossly, and then what do you suppose he 
did? He got a piece of tin with a hole the 
size of a silver quarter of a dollar — such a 
little, little hole — and he nailed that tin right 
across the door of the house. 

“ There! ” said he as he climbed down his 
ladder, “ I guess squirrels won’t get into that 
house any more ! ” 

And they didn’t. Poor little Bushy tried 
his best, he nearly broke his sharp teeth! 
But he couldn’t gnaw tin so he had to give 
up both his nuts and his fine new pantry. 


[ 24 ] 


A BIRD SCHOOL 


“OJEEMS to me everybody’s going to 

^ school these days,” said a little English 
sparrow as he balanced himself on a wire 
clothes line. 

“So?” asked his mother, “who for 
instance? ” 

“ Well, that kind little boy on the third 
floor for instance,” replied the little sparrow. 
“ He was so good to me all summer. He 
always put out the nicest crumbs! Three 
times every day! ” 

“And he’s forgotten you now?” asked 
the mother sparrow. 

“ No, not really forgotten me,” the little 
sparrow admitted, “ but he don’t pay as 
much attention to me as he used to. He 
just throws out the crumbs in the morning 
and then hastily shuts the window and runs 
off to school.” 


[ 25 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


The mother sparrow laughed. “ Well if 
that’s all the ill treatment you get you should 
not complain. I wouldn’t.” 

“ But I don’t like it,” insisted the little 
sparrow. “ I like to talk to him and I know 
he likes to talk to me, but I believe he really 
likes his school better.” 

“ That’s natural — school is interesting,” 
replied the mother sparrow. 

“ Oh, is it, mother? ” asked the little 
sparrow. “What do you know about going 
to school?” 

“ I know a lot about it,” she said, and 
with a contented little flourish of her feath- 
ers she settled down to tell him. (Is there 
anything more fun than telling all you 
know — and maybe just a little bit more — 
to someone who can’t dispute you?) 

“You see, last year I had a nest under 
the eaves of the schoolhouse up the street,” 
began the mother sparrow, “ and so I learned 
a lot about school.” 

“ Dear me, I wish you had built there this 
[ 26 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

year,” gi’umbled the little sparrow, “ maybe 
that’s the very school my little boy goes to.” 

“ Well, I didn’t,” said the mother sparrow, 
in her practical fashion, “ so I’ll tell you all 
I know instead. The children sit in rows and 
read out of books; then they stand in rows 
and say things out of their heads ; everything 
is in rows.” 

“ Dear me,” said the little sparrow in a 
puzzled voice, ‘‘ that sounds very queer and 
uninteresting.” 

“ That’s because you’re a bird,” answered 
his mother. “ Children like it. They like to 
do things all together and in rows that way.” 

The little sparrow pondered over that for 
quite a while, then he said, ‘‘ I wish birds 
could have school.” 

“ The idea,” laughed his mother. “ Don’t 
think so much; you’ll get foolish.” 

“ Oh, no, I won’t,” said the little sparrow. 
Then, with a sudden inspiration he added, 
“ But I’m going to start a bird school. Then 
maybe the little boy will like me again.” 

[ 27 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“ Where will you have it? ” asked his 
mother. “ Birds are not used to doing things 
in rows you know.” 

“ Yes, I know that,” replied the little spar- 
row, “ so I mean to hold my school on 
wires — then the birds will have to stay in 
rows! I’ll have school on the clothes line 
and on the telegraph wires.” 

And would you believe it, he did that very 
thing! He called all his bird friends and 
they sat on the wires and pretended they 
had school. The kind little boy saw them 
when he came home from school (as you may 
too if you look), and he was so interested 
that he stayed at the window a long time 
and watched. 

Of course that made the little sparrow 
very proud and happy, and after that he 
and his friends played bird school every fine 
day. 


[ 28 ] 



THE FAT GARDEN TOAD 

A COMMON, every-day garden toad 
lived in a back-yard garden. The 
garden was large and the flies were plenty, 
and as he was the only toad in the garden he 
had enough to eat without working very 
hard. 

One day as he was lazily dozing under 
[ 29 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


some wide-spreading leaves, a grasshopper 
came along and saw him. 

“ Good morning, Friend Toad,” said he 
cheerfully, “ and what are you doing this 
fine day? ” 

“ Oh, nothing much,” answered the toad 
sleepily, “ I don’t have to work hard you 
see, for I am king here so I can have plenty 
to eat all the time.” 

“Is that so?” asked the grasshopper. 
“ Then perhaps that’s the reason you are 
so fat.” 

“ I’m not fat! ” retorted the toad, “ you 
mustn’t speak to me that way.” 

“ Oh, all right,” replied the grasshopper, 
and with a zip and a whir he was gone. 

The toad shut his eyes ready to go to sleep 
again. But somehow, he could not go to 
sleep. He kept thinking and thinking about 
what the gi’asshopper had said about his 
being fat. 

“The very idea of calling me fat!” 
thought he. “ I well remember how I looked 

[ 30 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


at myself in a puddle last spring and I never 
will forget how graceful and slim I was! 
F at, indeed ! ” And he hopped around under 
another leaf where the ground was better to 
lie upon. “ I’ll think no more about it! ” 

J ust then two sparrows flew down near by. 

“ Here’s a fine worm,” said one. 

“ Get it quick before the toad wakes up! ” 
said the other. 

“The toad!” exclaimed the fii’st scorn- 
fully, “ he’ll not wake up for a long time. 
He’s so fat and so lazy he don’t even tend to 
his garden as he should — he just eats and 
sleeps all the day.” 

“ Funny,” said the toad to himself as the 
sparrows flew away, “ I don’t think I’m fat, 
and yet they seem to.” He sat there for 
quite a while blinking sleepily and wondering 
how he could really find out if he was fat. 

Finally he heard some robins talking and 
he looked to see where they were. They were 
splashing and sputtering in a puddle left by 
the garden hose. Immediately an idea oc- 
[ 31 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


curred to the toad. He would look in the 
puddle and prove to himself that he was not 
fat. So he waited patiently (toads are al- 
ways good at waiting) till the robins finished 
their toilets and fiew away. 

Then he hopped slowly and carefully 
toward the puddle, looking sheepishly 
around to see if anyone observed his vanity. 
No, he was alone. 

When he was close up to the water he 
looked and saw — not the dainty little 
speckled creature he remembered himself to 
be, but a gi’eat, fat, blotchy toad, so big and 
so puffed up that the water could hardly 
•show his whole picture. 

“ Oh dear,” he sighed, “ I guess they were 
right! And now I’ll have to begin to exer- 
cise ! ” 

And sure enough he did. Now that toad 
hops all day and he hops all evening. He 
hops and he hops and he hops all the time so 
he’ll get thin. But the poor old fellow is fat 
as ever — only the hot summer sun has dried 
[ 32 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


up the puddles and he can’t see himself any 
more. 

So, not knowing, he i§; tired and happy — 
and fat. 


[S3l 


THE CARDINAL’S BREAKFAST 


S you sit down to a nice breakfast of 



^ ^ fruit and cereal and maybe a poached 
egg on toast, did it ever occur to you to 
wonder what the birds are eating that very 
same minute? Of course you know that they 
eat worms and grubs and insects, but perhaps 
they like something else too. Notice some- 
time when you are out walking and see if 
some birds don’t eat grains or seeds. 

The pretty little scarlet cardinal who 
makes such a gay streak as he flies across the 
garden, likes seeds much better than worms 
or grubs and if you want to coax him to your 
garden throw out some wheat and watch him 
come. In the seed time of the year when 
every plant has its own little pods of seeds, 
watch and you will see him, for that is his 
feasting season. 


[ 34 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


All summer long a certain scarlet cardinal 
had kept his eye on a beautiful garden, for 
he was sure that some day he would find 
extra good eating there. Above all, he kept 
his eye on the big tall sunflower at the back 
of the garden. 

Early in the summer this sunflower was a 
lovely big blossom, so big and so cheerful 
and so sunny that it made the whole garden 
smile. But now the goldy petals were all 
dried up and blown away and the soft velvety 
center was hard and full of big fat seeds. 
You would have thought that the flower was 
prettiest while in bloom but the cardinal 
would never, never have agreed with you. 
He didn’t care a bit about a yellow blossom ; 
but a dead blossom full of seeds — that’s dif- 
ferent, that’s the very nicest thing in the 
world! 

For days the cardinal watched that seedy 
sunflower. He watched the seeds dry up 
and tested them daily with a gentle little 
peck. But no, they were not quite right, and 

[ 35 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


with a whisk and a whirr he would fly away 
to come another day. 

But finally one morning he decided that 
the seeds were just right and that he w^ould 
stay and eat them for breakfast. Round and 
round that sunflower plant he circled, sing- 
ling joyously, for all the world like a child 
around a birthday cake! Then he lighted on 
the seeds ready to eat the first course. 

But alas ! The flower stem that had been 
so brave and strong when the flower was 
young was now old and frail and easily bent. 
Even the weight of a dainty cardinal bent the 
face of the dried up flower so that the bird 
slid off* in the air. 

“ Well, well,” said the cardinal to himself, 
“ think of that ! I’ll have to get those seeds 
some other way.” After much thinking and 
experimenting he decided to get them on the 
fly. So he made a quick dash, flew past the 
flower and pecked out a seed as he passed. 

Without stopping even to taste it, he 
dropped the seed and got out another and 
[ 36 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


another till several seeds lay on the ground 
underneath the sunflower plant. Then he 
daintily alighted on the ground and ate liis 
breakfast in a leisurely and gentlemanly 
fashion. 


[S7] 


THE CITY-BROKE SQUIRREL 



OU think that’s a funny name for a 


^ story? Well, perhaps it is. But let 
me tell you something, the city-broke squirrel 
was funnier still! You have heard of city- 
broke horses (though in these automobile 
days we don’t think much about them) but 
who ever heard of a city-broke squirrel ? Yet 
there was one, and this is a story about him. 

This certain squirrel, his name was Bushy, 
lived in a woodsy campus of a small city 
college. Bushy made his home in one of the 
big hollow trees on the campus and there he 
lived very happily storing up his nuts for the 
winter and frolicing as only a squirrel can. 

One summer he noticed an imusually big 
noise and commotion going on across the road 
that bordered the campus. 

“ I wonder what can be going on over 


[S8] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


there?” he asked himself after he had 
perched where he could get a good look. 
“ Seems as if they are trying to do some- 
thing.” He scurried down a branch, cocked 
his head knowingly to one side, then gave 
a sure leap to another branch and scrambled 
up the tree trunk. 

“ I can’t seem to see anything here,” he 
grumbled, “ I believe I’ll run down to the 
curb stone and hear what those men are talk- 
ing about.” 

So he did. And there he heard all about 
the new happening. A new house was to be 
built directly facing the campus. And a new 
house meant men and commotion and strange 
new things. 

“ I’m afraid I’m not going to like this 
building business,” said Bushy to himself, 
and he climbed back up into the tree to 
watch. 

For many a day Bushy watched the work- 
men and horses from his safe perch in the 
tree, and then a new idea entered his head. 

[ 39 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ They don’t seem to bother me much,” 
thought he, “ I think I’ll run over there and 
see if there’s anything good to eat.” 

He waited till the workmen were all gone 
for the day and then he ran across the street. 
Was there anything for him? Indeed yes! 
The most tasteful, appetizing scraps Bushy 
^had ever eaten — that’s what there was! 
He ate everything he could find and then he 
hurried home resolved to call again the next 
day. 

But as he ran thoughtlessly across that 
street, a great automobile dashed by and — 
nearly — ran — over — poor — Bushy ! He 
was that frightened he could hardly climb a 
tree on the other side ! Such a narrow escape 
he never had had in all his life! He had a 
great breathless lump of fright in his throat 
for hours afterward. 

“ I like those good scraps,” he said, when 
finally he got his breath, “ but never again 
will I take such chances with that road. I’ll 
look before I cross.” 

[ 40 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


So always after that when he wanted to 
cross the road to forage for goodies, he sat 
on the curb and looked up and down that 
road f or automobiles . W asn’ t he a wise little 
Bushy? The workmen learned to know him 
and to watch for him and save him choice 
titbits. And they called him “ the city- 
broke ” squirrel. 


THE GREEDY BLACKBIRD 

O NE bright summer morning two black- 
birds started out for a trip together. 
“ I’m tired of worms and flies and bugs of 
all sorts,” said one, “ and I think by this time 
there ought to be some nice ripe seeds in 
yonder garden.” 

“ I like seeds too,” said the other, “ and I 
think we can And some. Come on, let’s go 
and explore.” So gaily they flew over to 
the garden nearby. 

Sure enough ! There not only were some 
seeds, but many seeds ; nice, ripe, brown and 
black seeds just ready for the taking. 

“Look! Look!” cried the bluest black- 
bird as he perched on a wire directly over the 
garden, “ did you ever see so many seeds? 
Why didn’t we come here before ? There are 
so many seeds I hardly know where to begin 
eating.” 


[ 42 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ That’s easy,” laughed the blackest black- 
bird. “ I’m going to begin right here.” And 
he darted down from his perch on the wire 
to a cluster of ripe brown seeds in the corn- 
flower bed. 

That was too much for the bluest black- 
bird. He immediately forgot his manners 
and the garden full of seeds. He could re- 
member nothing, he could see nothing but 
that cluster of seeds his friend meant to eat! 
Quick as a flash he was changed from a 
happy, jolly partner to a screaming, greedy 
fury. 

Down from the wire he darted. “ Get 
away from there!” he screamed, “that’s 
what I’m going to eat! Get away! That’s 
mine!” 

The blackest bird was so amazed he could 
neither eat nor fly. Was this squawking, 
greedy fury his happy companion of a min- 
ute ago? 

“ Certainly I’ll get away,” he said politely, 
“ I had no intention of taking what was 

[ 43 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


yours.” And he flew quickly over to another 
pod of seeds — he didn’t care to stay in such 
company anyway. 

But that wasn’t what the greedy black- 
bird wanted. He wished to have the very 
seeds that his companion chose — the very 
seeds ! So he chased him across the garden. 
“ Here! Let me have that,” he called the 
minute he saw his friend pause by a seed 
cluster, “ that’s the one I mean to eat.” 

He snapped and he pecked till the other 
blackbird was glad to fly away. Back and 
forth across the garden they darted; pausing 
by this seed pod and now by that, fighting, 
pecking and quarreling. You would have 
thought there was only one seed in that whole 
garden and that both birds were starving for 
it, instead of hundreds and thousands ready 
for the taking! 

At last, tired and hungry and cross, they 
gave up trying to have anything to eat and 
flew back to their nests. 

“ Silly creatures,” croaked the toad who 

[ 44 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

had seen the whole performance, “ can’t they 
see there is plenty for all? ” 

But they couldn’t see — that selfish little 
blackbird and his friend whom he had made 
into an enemy. They painfully smoothed 
their ruffled feathers and wished they had 
something to eat. 


[ 45 ] 


BUTTERFLIES 


^ 1 1W0 little white butterflies began their 
^ lives close beside each other in a big 
garden. For many a day they had lain there 
among the leaves closely wrapped in their 
soft coverings but of course they were fast 
asleep then and knew or cared nothing about 
neighbors. On the bright warm day when 
they came out of their cocoons they were 
surprised and pleased to find company close 
by and together they started out to explore 
the garden. 

“Look! Look!” cried one, “see that 
lovely red .flower? I’d like to stop and play 
with it.” So they stopped a minute and hov- 
ered round that big red rose. 

“Buzz, buzz, get out of my way!” 
hummed a big fat bumble bee savagely. 
“ This is my flower, you mustn’t touch it! 
Buzz, buzz, get out of my way! ” 
r 46 1 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“ Oh, all right,” murmured the two little 
butterflies hastily, “ we didn’t intend to stay. 
We were only looking.” And they fluttered 
off to a big sunflower. 

“ Isn’t this a gorgeous flower? ” asked one, 
“ I like it better than the rose.” 

“ Do you? ” said the other, “ it is lovely, 
but I liked that rose. Let’s — ” And just 
then there was a whir-r and ’kplunk! and a 
great grasshopper landed squarely on the 
sunflower’s face. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” he demanded 
of the frightened butterflies. 

“ If you please, we’re just leaving,” they 
explained, “ and anyway, we didn’t know 
this belonged to you.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said the grasshopper grandly, 
“ this is my garden and I have to jump up 
here every once in a while to look things over 
a bit. You may stay a little while if you 
wish.” 

“ Thank you, but we must be going,” re- 
plied the butterflies and with a flutter of 
[ 47 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 



snowy wings they left the big sunflower and 
flew towards the mulberry tree, 

“ Look at this lovely tree,” cried they, 
“ aren’t we glad we came here? ” 

[ 48 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘ It’s a wonderful world,” added one, “ I 
do not know what is the prettiest sight of 
all.” 

“ This tree is,” sang a cardinal, “ and this 
is my tree, my tree, my tree! ” 

“ So it is,” agreed the butterflies, ‘‘ and we 
leave it to you alone,” and they flew olF 
toward the road. Over the lawn, over the 
road, over garden and meadow they flut- 
tered. They stopped to talk to the crickets, 
they chatted a moment with the robins. They 
made the acquaintance of the larkspur, the 
daisy and the wild aster. 

But at no place did they stop long enough 
to call a spot their own ; — do you know why ? 
Because little white butterflies live but one 
day and they have no time for home making. 
There is too much in this big world to see. 
They flutter and explore all their whole one 
day! Do you blame them? 


[ 49 ]- 


MR. AND MRS. ROBIN 


T) RIGHT and early one spring day a 
certain Mr. and Mrs. Robin set to work 
building their nest. “ Suppose we try some 
new place this year,” suggested Mrs. Robin, 
“ we have built in this same apple tree for 
so long that I think I’d like a change.” 

“ I’m not much in favor of new things,” 
replied Mr. Robin doubtfully, “ though of 
course we can change if you like. What dif- 
ference does it make if the apple tree is old? 
It’s been a good tree for us before; why not 
build here now? ” 

Mrs. Robin good naturedly assented and 
so the nest was built in the old apple tree and 
the eggs were laid — five as beautifully col- 
ored eggs as ever laid in a robin’s nest. 

All went well till one night some time 
later, when a storm came up. The lightning 
[ 50 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


flashed, the thunder rumbled, the rain came 
down in torrents and, worst of all, the wind 
blew a furious gale. The trees in the yard 
bent and twisted and turned under the force 
of the wind; but the old apple tree had 
not the strength and lithesomeness of its 
younger days and could not bend this way 
and that as the other trees did. When a 
great gust of wind shook it, it cracked brit- 
tlely and crashed to the ground. 

“Something awful is happening!’' Mrs. 
Robin screamed as she felt the tree give way. 

“ Don’t be frightened,” called Mr. Robin, 
“ sit still on the eggs and I will take care of 
you the best I can.” He fluttered about 
vainly trying to look calm and peaceful and 
to do something for his little mate — but 
really he was quite as frightened as she was. 
Down, down, in one awful crash fell the 
apple tree and it laid across the yard at a 
sorry angle. 

When the morning sun looked over that 
yard it saw branches of trees twisted and 
[ 51 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


torn, tiny green apples and cherries and 
pears scattered over the ground and worst 
of all, the fine old apple tree, the king of the 
orchard, lying flat on the ground. 

Two little children who lived in a house 
near by came to see what the storm had done. 
“ Look at the old apple tree fallen down! ” 
exclaimed the boy. 

“ And our robins’ nest was in that tree,” 
cried the little girl, “ I wonder if the eggs are 
all broken? ” 

Hurriedly they ran to investigate. No, the 
nest was not disturbed though the tree was 
so twisted that it was tipped way to one side. 
Mrs. Robin could hardly sit on the eggs it 
was so tippy, though she was trying her best 
like the good little robin she was. 

“ Let’s move the nest to some other tree,” 
said the little girl, “ some tree where Mrs. 
Robin will be more comfortable.” So the 
boy and girl took the nest tenderly and 
placed it safely in a nearby peach tree. 

Mr. and Mrs. Robin fluttered about anx- 

[ 52 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


iously during the moving. They seemed to 
understand that the children meant no harm 
but they were anxious just the same till the 
nest was settled in a broad fork of a peach 
tree and the children had stepped away from 
the tree. Then Mrs. Robin fluttered down 
and carefully examined each egg. Finding 
them safe and unbroken she tittered a happy 
little ‘‘thank you” and nestled down to 
make the eggs warm and snug. 

“ It’s a good thing we came out just when 
we did,” said the little girl as she watched 
the contented robin mother. 

“ Yes, indeed,” agreed the boy, “ for those 
eggs would not have stayed long in that 
tipped over old tree.” 

“ After this,” proposed the little girl, 
“ when there’s a storm, let’s always notice if 
the birds’ nests are safe.” 

And at the same time Mr. Robin was 
saying, “ thank goodness, we’re safely over 
that trouble ! N ext time I’ll take your advice 
and build in a younger tree! ” 

[5S] 


FIVE LITTLE ROBINS 


Five little robins crowded more and more, 
One flew awa}^ and then there were four. 

ES, that’s just what happened. 



^ Five little robins lived most con- 
tentedly in their nest in the old peach tree till 
they all grew so big they were hopelessly 
crowded — yes, crowded even for robins. 

“ I wish you would keep out of my way,” 
grumbled the biggest robin baby as he tried 
to wiggle himself into a more comfortable 
position. 

“ I don’t think you have any right to com- 
plain,” said the middle-sized robin baby 
crossly, “ you take the most food and you 
take the most room and you wiggle and 
squirm over us all you please. I don’t think 
you need to talk ! ” 

“You needn’t say anything either,” said 
the littlest robin of all, who had been trying 


[ 54 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


for days to get up courage to speak his 
troubles, “ you four take the most space and 
the best worms and you don’t even leave me 
room to grow. That’s the reason I’m so 
small!” and he squirmed and rebelled as 
much as he dared. 

“Children! Children! Please don’t quar- 
rel so ! ” cried the mother robin as she flut- 
tered about the nest. “ I do so want my 
babies to love each other and be kind.” 

“ Then you’ll have to give us more room,” 
said the biggest robin baby wisely. 

“ We’d have more room if you were out 
of the way,” grumbled the next to the biggest 
robin baby without even trying to be polite. 

“ All right, then. I’ll go,” replied the big- 
gest daringly, “ I’ve wanted to get out of 
the nest for a long time — now I will!” 
He climbed gaily up out of the crowded nest 
and stood jauntily on the edge. 

“ Oh, my dear! You mustn’t! You’ll be 
killed ! ” screamed his mother and in a panic 
of fright she flew about the nest. 

[ 55 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ Pooh! Don’t worry about me,” laughed 
the robin baby boastfully. “ Did you want 
me to stay a baby forever? I mean to fly 
away and see the world.” 

“ But you don’t know! Wait till I teach 
you, you’re only a baby,” screamed his 
mother. 

“ Baby! ” laughed the biggest robin, 
“ watch me fly.” 

The four robins settled themselves more 
comfortably in the nest and eyed their 
brother in his venture. 

“Watch me! Here I go!” cried the 
boasting brother. And off he flew and was 
never heard from again. 

Five little robins crowded more and more, 

One flew away and then there were four. 


[56 1 


AN IMITATION SHOWER 


Four little robins living in a tree; 

One got wet and then there were three. 

NE day two little girls were playing 



out in the yard under the old peach 
tree where the robins’ nest was. 

“ Do you know,” said one little girl as she 
looked up into the peach tree, “ I think those 
robin babies must be awfully thirsty. We 
haven’t had rain in a long time and they 
don’t get a drop of water.” 

The other little girl carefully examined 
the robin babies as they peered over the edge 
of the nest. “ I’ll tell you what let’s do,” she 
cried, “ let’s sprinkle them with the hose — 
they will be glad to get wet, I know.” 

“ You do make the finest plans,” cried the 
younger girl happily, “ let’s get the hose 
quickly! ” 


[ 57 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


They ran to the front yard, dragged back 
the hose and turned on the water. 

“ We may hurt the nest,’’ said the older 
girl thoughtfully, “ let’s turn the water high 
in the tree and let it come down on the nest 
like rain.” 

So they did. 

Down through the old peach tree trickled 
the clear cold water drops much to the amaze- 
ment of the baby robins. 

Now at that very minute the most venture- 
some of the four baby robins decided he 
wanted to see something of the world on 
which the sun shone so brightly. His brother 
went away and was happy — why not he? 
So he climbed up onto the edge of the nest 
just at the minute the hose rain-storm be- 
gan. 

He felt the water — gave one cry of 
fright, then summoned all his courage and 
flew away — away over to the garden. 

The three little birds who were left, twit- 
tered and called for their mother so beseech- 
[ 58 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

ingly that she heard them clear over in the 
next dooryard and came flying to see what 
the matter might be. As she came nearer the 
tree she noticed the waterdrops. For a 
moment she paused on the edge of the nest in 
puzzled surprise. 

“ Oh, mother,” shouted one baby, “ the sun 
was shining so nicely and warm and then all 
of a sudden this awful rain began.” 

“ And big brother flew away,” screamed 
the second baby. 

‘‘ And I’m all wet,” wailed the third. 

The mother gave one despairing glance at 
the bright sunshine and the raindrops and 
then she spread her wings and settled down 
to keep her babies dry. 

“ They don’t seem to care much about 
water,” decided the little girls, and they 
turned off the water and went back to their 
play. 

Over in the garden the venturesome robin 
baby gobbled up a nice fat worm. “ I’m so 
glad I flew away from the nest and that rain- 
[ 59 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


storm,” said he, ‘‘ it was crowded there and 
so wet. Here it is dry and there is plenty of 
room and, best of all, I don’t have to divide 
my worms. I mean to stay.” 

And he did. 

Four little robins living in a tree; 

One got wet and then there were three^ 


[ 60 ] 


THREE BABY ROBINS 


Three baby robins thought they heard a mew ; 
One started to investigate and then there were two. 



FTER their brothers left home the 


^ ^ three remaining robin babies lived very 
comfortably for several days. Of course the 
mother bird missed her departed babies but 
the three who were left didn’t mind a bit; 
there’s no use pretending, they simply didn’t 
care one bit! Worse still, they were really 
glad their brothers were gone I 

For now, you see, there was plenty of 
room for growing, three in a nest is not 
nearly as crowded as five. And all the nice, 
fat, dangly worms which their father and 
mother brought to the nest could be divided 
into three instead of five pieces. Then, too, 
Mother Robin had time to talk to her babies 
and to tell them of all the wonders they 
would some day see in the big world outside 


[ 61 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


the nest. And she gave them lots of good 
advice too — much of which alas! they didn’t 
remember. 

“ Now, children,” she said impressively 
one day, “ you must remember that the cat is 
your worst enemy! Don’t go near any cat. 
Don’t even look at one! Fly away at once 
if you hear a mew! ” 

“ All right, mother,” said one robin, “ but 
we could remember much better if we had 
some lunch; I for one am hungry.” 

“ Yes, yes, you shall have something right 
away,” exclaimed the mother robin and away 
she flew in search of food. 

Left alone the three baby robins chattered 
softly for a while and then one whispei^ed, 
“ Listen! What’s that? ” 

“ Where? I don’t hear anything? ” said 
another. 

“ Listen! ” commanded the first. 

Sure enough! Bight imder the nest there 
sounded a soft, “ Me-ow! Me-ow! ” 

“ It’s a cat ! ” exclaimed one robin. 

[621 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ Hush! Listen! ” said another. 

Again they heard it — the cat seemed to 
be calling to another cat for they could 
plainly hear, “ Me-ow ! Me-ow! Some nice 
baby robins up this tree! Their mother’s 
gone away ! Me-ow ! Come quick ! ” 

“ It’s a cat! ” cried one frightened robin. 
“Mother said to fly if we heard one!” 
exclaimed the biggest of the three. 

“We can’t! You know we can’t,” cried 
the others, “ we’ve never tried to fly! ” And 
those two littlest babies actually started cry- 
ing for their mother they were so frightened. 
“ Whatever shall we do? ” 

“ Do? ” exclaimed the biggest, “ do what 
you please ! I mean to mind my mother and 
fly away ! So there ! ” 

He climbed boldly to the edge of the nest, 
spread his little untried wings — and flew 
over to a nearby tree — yes he actually did 
for this is a true story. 

The cat was so surprised that she forgot 
there might be other robin babies in the same 
[6S] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


>iest and she ran off toward the other tree. 
But the robin was safe — he flew again, this 
time high where she could not get him. 

“ I think the cat must have gone,” whis- 
pered one of the two who stayed in the nest, 
“ for everything is quiet. So we’re safe after 
all.” 

Three baby robins thought they heard a mew, 

One started to investigate and then there were two. 


THE EMPTY NEST 


Two little robins left all alone, 

They grew up and then there were none, 

F I '1HE two baby robins left all alone in the 
^ nest grew so fast that their own mother 
hardly knew them and their father decided 
that they were plenty big enough to feed 
themselves. 

“ You baby them entirely too much,” he 
said to their mother, “ they are big and fat 
and strong. Why don’t you teach them to 
fly and let them forage for their own food? ” 
Mrs. Robin looked thoughtful. “ I sup- 
pose I might as well,” she admitted, “ but 
you see, now that the three other children are 
gone, two don’t keep me very busy and — ” 
“ And you are just plain foolish about 
these two who are left! ” interrupted Father 
Robin, “ and there’s no sense in it 1 ” With 

[ 65 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


that, he considered his duty done and he flew 
away for his own dinner. 

Mother Robin pecked around in the grass 
for a while, then she made up her mind what 
she ought to do — and did it. She flew 
straight to her nest. Up craned two little 
necks and two hungry mouths opened wide. 

“No, children,” said Mother Robin 
firmly, “ no worms for you this time! ” 

The baby robins chirped their disappoint- 
ment. 

“ No,” continued Mother Robin, “ for you 
are too big — far too big to be fed all the 
time. How would you like to fly to the gar- 
den and get your own worms? ” 

“We fly? ” exclaimed the robins. 

“ Dear me, yes! ” said their mother, “ why 
noii” 

“ I’d like that,” declared the bravest of the 
two. “ Come on, let’s go right away. Where 
do we begin? ” 

“ At the edge of the nest, my dear,” said 
his mother. Then, in her very kindest mother 
[ 66 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

way she encouraged him to venture out of 
the nest. 

“ Careful! Oh, dear, I’m so afraid you’ll 
fall! ” screamed the other robin baby as he 
watched his brother pause on the edge of the 
nest. 

“Pooh! Who’s afraid?” boasted the 
braver robin baby. (Though if the whole 
truth were told he was a little bit frightened 
himself — down in the bottom of his heart. ) 
He summoned all his courage — and — 
flew ! Flew over to the lovely garden where 
the worms were plenty. 

“ That didn’t seem so very hard after all,” 
thought the littlest robin and becoming very 
brave all at once he said, “ I think I could do 
that myself.” So before his mother had time 
to come back for him, he bravely flew straight 
to the garden. 

“ Now isn’t this splendid! ” exclaimed the 
delighted mother robin, “ I’m so glad you 
twn didn’t run away too soon as the other 
children did. I like to have you around with 
[ 67 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


me.” She showed them where to find the 
best worms and the juiciest bugs and was as 
happy as could be. 

Two little robins left all alone, 

They grew up and then there were none. 


[ 68 ] 


THE CATERPILLAR 


GORGEOUS black-and-gold cater- 
pillar once started out for a stroll. 
Hardly had he gone a foot before he met a 
snail. 

“ Good morning, Friend Caterpillar,” 
said the snail pleasantly, “ where are you 
going this fine day? ” 

“ I’m out for a little walk,” replied the 
caterpillar. ‘‘ I get so very tired of that 
plain green grass back there that I must have 
a change sometimes.” 

“ I’m not surprised at that,” said the snail. 
“ Such a handsome creature as you are 
should not have to spend his whole life in the 
grass. You ought to climb up higher and 
live nearer the flowers.” 

“ Dear me, how wise you are. Friend 
Snail,” replied the caterpillar, proudly 
humping his black-and-yellow back, “ I 
[ 69 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


never guessed you had so much wisdom in 
your small shell. Only today I was thinking 
that I lived too modestly.” 

“ Indeed you do,” agreed the snail and he 
went on about his own business. 

The caterpillar felt so flattered and so 
important and comfortable withal, that he 
began to look for some place to climb higher. 

Soon a butterfly came by. 

“ Oh, Friend Butterfly,” called the cater- 
pillar, “I’m looking for a new place to live. 
Now you fly around and see something of 
the world. Please be good enough to tell me 
if the stem I am on leads to a good home.” 

“ Well,” said the butterfly, looking care- 
fully at the whole stem and plant, “ you are 
on the stem of a goldenrod plant. The blos- 
som is very beautiful and everyone stops to 
admire it, but — ” 

“ Say no more, that’s just where I’ll 
live,” interrupted the caterpillar, “ for such a 
handsome creature as I am should live on a 
beautiful home.” 


[ 70 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 



“ But it won’t be safe up there,” exclaimed 
the butterfly, “for the birds can see you 
much quicker there than when you are down 
in the grass. Stop! You might be eaten! ” 
“ Never fear,” said the caterpillar impor- 
ttotly, “ do you suppose any bird would dare 
eat me? Such a beautiful creature with a 
gold-and-black stripe? ” And he turned his 
back on the butterfly and didn’t even say 
thank you or good-bye. 

Up that goldenrod stem he climbed — up 
and up and up. 


[ 71 ] 



GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ This is going to be fine,” he said as he 
paused for breath, “ I can see so much more 
of the world from here. This is really a suit- 
able location for such a lovely creature as I 
am. I can see everything from here.” 

“ Hadn’t you better keep under the leaf so 
that the birds won’t see you as they fly past? ” 
asked a big, blue fly who darted by, 

“ No, indeed,” replied the caterpillar, 
“ I’m not afraid of birds. No bird would 
dare touch a handsome caterpillar like me! ” 
And just to show that he was not afraid, 
he stretched himself out on the top of a big 
green leaf. 

And at that very minute two robins flew 
past the goldenrod plant. 

“ Excuse me a minute,” said one, as he 
spied the caterpillar on the top of the leaf, 
“ I see my dinner waiting for me.” 

Down the robin darted and gobbled up 
that vain yellow-and-black caterpillar all in 
one bite as though he was just a common 
worm! Think of that! 

[ 72 ] 


TWO MISTAKES 


/^^NE warm summer evening a tiny white 
kitten looked from his home on the 
back porch to the yard and the street out 
front. “ I don’t see why I have to stay shut 
up here all the time,” said he; “ I think I’ll 
start out and explore.” 

So he wiggled his plump little body 
through a crack in the porch and started for 
the street. 

Up at the corner he noticed the dazzling 
electric light burning. “ That looks interest- 
ing,” said he, “ and I think I’ll investigate.” 
So he slipped his tail down low to the ground 
and slunk along from shadow to shadow till 
he reached the corner. 

For a few minutes he watched the play of 
the shadows on the street, then a buzzing 
sound caught his attention. “ What’s that? 

[ 73 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


I never knew shadows made noises.” He 
listened carefully, and again that “ buzz, 
buzz ” was repeated ; and plainly it came 
from out by the light. “ I don’t believe those 
are shadows,” cried the kitten eagerly, “ I 
think those black things on the street are 
bugs good for eating! ” And forgetting his 
fear, he dashed out into the street and 
pounced on the biggest black spot. 

But there was nothing there. 

“ Funny,” said he in surprise, “ I wouldn’t 
have supposed a bug could fly quicker than I 
could catch it. I’ll have to try again.” 

He backed off towards the gutter and 
watched again. This time he didn’t intend to 
be too slow. As quick as a black spot ap- 
peared on the street he pounced upon it 
ready to gobble it up before it could escape. 

But there was nothing there. 

Just at that minute there appeared from 
the shadows of the houses a comfortable, big 
mother cat. “ Come here,” she called to her 
kitten, “ what do you mean by running 
[ 74 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


away? I thought you were safe on the 
porch.” 

“ I’m not running away,” replied the little 
kitten, “ I’m catching June bugs.” 

“June bugs,” scoffed the mother cat, 
“ don’t you know those are only shadows on 
the ground?” 

The kitten looked at the black spots doubt- 
fully. “ Well, they do look like shadows,” 
he said, “ but I do wish you’d come and see 
them, mother, they buzz.” 

Slowly the mother cat crept out under the 
brilliant light of the street lamp, where the 
shadows played flickeringly. “ No, they’re 
only shadows,” she said finally, “ and it’s high 
time you were coming home.” 

The kitten eyed the shadows disappoint- 
edly. “ I wish they really were bugs,” he 
said, “ I thought it was going to be such fun 
to catch them.” 

And just at that very minute, two great 
fat June bugs fell down from the electric 
light above. Quick as a flash each cat 

[ 75 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


grabbed one, ate it with satisfaction, and 
then started for home. 

“ Of course you were mistaken in the be- 
ginning,” said the mother cat, “ but I’m glad 
I was mistaken in the end.” 

“ I thought I’d be right about something,” 
said the kitten; and he trotted along home 
with his mother. 


[ 76 ] 


HOUSE HUNTING 


T3ERCHED up high in the back yard 
of a city home were three little wren 
houses. And very inviting they looked too, 
you may be sure. 

Poor little Mrs. Robin Redbreast wanted 
so much to live in one of them. She couldn’t 
forget the very narrow escape her precious 
babies had last year when a cat — a big sleek 
house cat — nearly, nearly, nearly ate her 
dear babies. But for the fact that a neigh- 
bor’s dog trotted into the yard just in time 
and diverted her attention they would surely 
have been gone. So, naturally, Mrs. Robin 
Redbreast sighed for a really-truly house 
with a front door too small for cats. 

But her sighing did no good, for a robin is 
too large to get through the door of a wren 
house. She knew because she had tried. For 
[ 77 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


several hours after she first saw the house she 
tried desperately to get in that tiny door; she 
pecked at it, she clawed and scolded it vig- 
orously but it was too small. So finally she 
gave up and built her nest in a nearby tree. 

“ But I mean to see who gets that nice 
house,” she said with an air of great deter- 
mination, “ I mean to be very particular 
about our neighbors.” 

For several days no bird canie near the 
house. Then early one morning, a very 
cunning Mr. and Mrs. Wren flew into the 
yard. 

“ Oh, look! ” cried Mrs. Wren, ‘‘ here’s a 
dear little house ! Exactly what we’ve been 
looking for.” 

“ To be sure it is,” chirped Mr. Wren de- 
lightedly, and then, unfortunately, he looked 
around. When you have f ound exactly what 
you want it’s a very bad plan to look fur- 
ther — you will see trouble every time. 
Trouble is exactly what those wrens found; 
trouble in the form of the two other houses! 

[ 78 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘ Oh, look at these ! ” cried the foolish 
fellow, and of course Mrs. Wren looked. 

“ Aren’t they lovely ! ” she cried, “ we must 
look these over carefully before we settle. 
Maybe one of these is even better than that 
nice one we first saw.” So they examined 
them carefully. They ran in and out; they 
examined, they tittered and exclaimed till the 
watching Mrs. Robin was disgusted. 

“ Why in the world can’t they decide and 
start to furnishing? ” she chirped crossly. ‘‘ I 
don’t believe wrens know a good home when 
they see one ! I’d be glad enough to take any 
of the three! ” 

Finally Mrs. Wren decided on the first 
house. They carried in straws and worked 
very hard all day on the furnishing. And 
then she decided that she wanted the second 
house and the work began all over. 

After a whole day’s work on the second 
house she decided that the third was much the 
best; and then after an hour she moved back 
into the first! 


[ 79 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


That last move was too much for prac- 
tical Mrs. Robin Redbreast, “ Such fickle 
creatures ! ” she scolded, ‘‘ I won’t let them 
stay in that nice house! ” She screamed and 
she scolded so vigorously that Mr. and Mrs. 
Wren had to give up all three houses and 
settle in a distant barn. 


[ 80 ] 


A BEAR STORY 



GREAT grizzly bear lived in a huge, 


^ ^ stone bear pit in a big city zoo. Part 
of the time he stayed in his snug little house 
in the back of his cage; the rest of the day 
he spent walking up and down, back and 
across, round and round the edge of his cage, 
swinging his great grizzly head as though he 
would like to hunt for big game. 

In the afternoons of the warm spring and 
summer days he had his best fun. For then 
the children came and threw him peanuts and 
popcorn which he would gobble up in his in- 
different offhand fashion. He really loved 
the peanuts and liked the fun of coaxing 
them from the children better than anything 
he did all the year. But it would never do for 
a bear — a handsome, great, big, grizzly bear 
— to appear to like anything as common as 


t 81 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


peanuts, no indeed! So he pretended that 
he didn’t care a grunt and that he just ate 
the peanuts to oblige the children. 

One bright spring day he sat back on his 
haunches in the front of his cage and eyed 
the crowd of interested people in front of 
him. Popcorn and peanuts came his way 
just as easily ! For everybody liked to watch 
him snap his big jaws shut and crunch on 
the food he caught. But sometimes the aim 
was not quite tme ; or sometimes the peanut 
hit the bars of the cage and swerved to one 
side; so that he could not catch it without 
going after it. 

‘‘ I wonder what I had better do about 
those peanuts I am missing,” he said as he 
eyed the crowd thoughtfully. “ I can’t af- 
ford to lose my dignity by running after 
anything and I don’t like to lose the nuts. 
Maybe I can reach that one there with my 
paw,” and he located a nut with a glance 
from the corner of his eye. 

Just at that very minute, a glossy black- 
‘ [ 82 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


bird lighted on the top of the iron fence 
around the cage. “ Oh, look at that fine 
peanut,’’ he chirped, “ right down by that 
bear and he doesn’t see it at all. I mean to 
get it myself.” Down he darted, grabbed 
the nut in his bill — just as the bear’s huge, 
cushioned paw reached out for the nut. 

But the bear was too dignified and slow. 
Quick as a flash the bird grabbed the nut, 
flew to the high iron fence and the bear’s paw 
descended — on nothing at all ! 

“Funny!” said the bear to himself 
slowly, “ I was sure there was a peanut 
there ! ” 

Up on the iron fence the blackbird 
crunched the peanut and laughed to himself 
at the joke he had played on the gi’eat big 
bear. 


[ 83 ] 


A BLACKBIRD JOKE 


NE pleasant spring day a blackbird 



flew down from a tree to grub for 
worms around a rosebush. Not a big, cross- 
looking blackbird as so many of them are — 
no indeed. This one was a nice, slim, lady- 
like looking blackbird who didn’t look one bit 
quarrelsome or fussy. 

“ I don’t feel very hungry,” she thought to 
herself, “ and yet an extra worm or two 
never comes amiss; I think I’ll scratch a 
little here.” So she pecked and she scratched 
and she flecked away the dirt with her glossy 
black bill. 

Not very far away a big, squawky, bossy 
blackbird stood and watched her. “ If that 
little blackbird down there digs up any 
worms,” he said to himself, “ I’ll be ready. 
I’ll dart down and gobble them up before 


[at] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


she has a chance to eat them.” So he watched 
very carefully. 

Now of course the lady-like little black- 
bird didn’t know she was being watched; or 
if she did, she pretended she didn’t, which 
is nearly the same thing. She went right 
along with her digging and digging and dig- 
ging — and she didn’t find a single worm. 

“ This is very stupid,” she said to herself. 
“ I wonder if I had better look elsewhere? ” 
She cocked her head and thought a minute. 
“ No,” she decided, “ I think I’ll stay right 
here. Maybe there are good worms a little 
further down. I’ll dig deeper.” So she went 
on digging and digging — and she didn’t 
find a single worm. 

Now the blackbird up in the tree saw her 
diligently digging; saw her stop and look 
into the ground thoughtfully and then re- 
sume her digging. 

“ What can she have found? ” thought he. 
“She would never dig so long unless she 
had found something especially good.” He 
[ 85 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


cocked his head to one side and watched her 
shrewdly. “ I wonder if she has found a 
worm and eaten it right under my nose? ” 

The more he thought, the angrier he 
became and the more certain that the little 
lady blackbird had eaten up the finest worm 
of the season. 

And still that lady-like blackbird went on 
digging and digging — and didn’t find a 
single worm. 

At last the big bird could stand it no 
longer. He swooped down from the tree ; he 
ruffled out his feathers and he blew out his 
chest till he looked twice his real size. Then 
how he did storm at that industrious little 
blackbird ! 

“Get away from here, will you?” he 
squawked at her. “ Don’t eat all those fine 
worms! I mean to make a feast of those 
worms myself!” 

The lady-like backbird turned and looked 
at him. Then she shrugged her shoulders as 
plainly as ever a bird could and remarked, 
[ 86 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘ Oh, very well, if that’s the way you feel 
about it ! ” and she flew away. 

Left alone, the big, bossy blackbird started 
digging and digging and digging and dig- 
ging — and didn’t find a single worm ! 


[ 87 ] 


THE EARLY WORM 


/^^NCE there lived a worm who tried to 
become very wise. 

“ What matters it,” he said to himself, 
“ that I am only a common, every-day earth- 
worm? I can listen and think and become 
the very wisest worm in the whole world.” 

‘"Silly!” laughed a brother earthworm, 
“ don’t you know that with all your thinking 
you can never be anything but a common 
earthworm just as I am? ” 

“ You are the silly one,” said the ambitious 
worm, “ and you are very stupid too. I’ll 
not talk to you.” And he turned around and 
crawled away. “ Some day,” he i’emarked 
before he was out of hearing, “ when I am 
very wise, I will come back and teach you 
many things.” And then he burrowed deep 
into the ground for a quiet study. 

[ 88 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


All winter long he stayed down in the 
ground. Some folks said that he stayed 
there because he was asleep. Some said he 
stayed because the ground was frozen and 
he couldn’t crawl up. He said he stayed 
because he wanted to have time and quiet 
to think and to grow wise. You see, about 
earthworms, as about everything else in this 
world of ours, you may believe almost any- 
thing you please, according to the kind of 
person you are. 

Along towards spring, when the breezes 
began to blow soft and warm from the south- 
land and when the birds began to start for 
the north, the earthworm felt a desire to dig 
his way to the light. 

“ I believe,” thought he, “ that if I am 
ever to amoimt to much, I will have to get on 
the top of the earth where my study will be of 
some use.” 

So he dug very hard and prowled and 
wormed his way upward through the half- 
thawed soil. Pretty soon he remembered 
[ 89 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

that worm who had laughed at him. “ If I 
could only find that fellow,” he declared, 
“ I’d tell him some of the wisdom I have 
thought of this winter.” 

And then, as sometimes happens in this 
world, he found himself beside that very 
worm. 

“ Good morning, lazy worm,” said he, 
“ why don’t you work as I do ? Only workers 
find the light.” 

“Humph! You can’t know much,” scoffed 
the lazy worm. “ I don’t intend to hurry 
myself. Haven’t you ever heard the saying 
‘ The early bird catches the worm ’ ? T 
assure you I don’t intend to be found very 
early.” 

“ That’s a foolish saying,” retorted the 
worm- who-thought-himself -wise, “I intend 
to work hard and fast. That’s the way to 
be happy. Work early and late — that’s 
my motto!” 

So he worked very hard and he worked 
very fast and soon he found himself on the 
[ 90 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


surface of the garden just as the sun peeped 
over the horizon. 

And at that very minute a rohin came 
along and gobbled up that worm — worm, 
wisdom and everything! 

All of which only proves that you never 
can tell what may happen, so you’d better 
be careful what motto you go by. 



[ 91 ] 



SEVEN LITTLE PIGS 


OEVEN little pigs once lived with their 
mother in the corner of a big barnyard. 
For a while they thought their tiny corner 
was just as nice a place to live in as could be, 
but as they grew and began rooting about 
they felt decidedly too crowded. Fortu- 
nately the farmer too, noticed that they were 
crowded and moved them to a roomy corner 
[ 92 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


of the meadow which he fenced off nicely 
with rails. 

For a time they had great fun running 
about, digging in the mellow ground and 
having a beautiful time in a nice, comfortable 
pig-fashion, till one day the biggest of the 
seven pigs happened to look over the fence. 
(You know yourself how you feel if you 
happen to look over the fence around your 
own life, so you can quite imagine how he 
felt!) He saw all the lovely pasture; all 
the woods beyond; fields and trees and hills 
in the distance — and that miserable fence 
keeping him in his corner. 

That poor, biggest pig stuck his nose 
through a crack between the rails and looked 
and looked at the inviting sight; and the 
more eagerly he looked the more miserable 
he felt. 

“ Come on, Piggie,” grunted his little 
brother, “ what makes you hang around that 
old fence all the time? Nothing there. 
Don’t you want some corn?” 

[ 93 ] 


GOOD NIGHT STORIES 


“ I’ll get some corn after a while,” retorted 
the biggest pig crossly, and then he added, 
“what I want now is to root in yonder 
meadow.” 

The six other pigs couldn’t understand 
such un-piglike talk, so they simply turned 
their backs and went on with their eating; 
they gobbled up their dinner, and their 
brother’s too, and then they grunted for 
more, just as they always had. 

But as no more was in sight, they at last 
had time to notice their big brother who was 
still looking through the fence. 

“ I wonder what he really sees over 
there? ” asked one. 

“ Foolishness,” replied his sister. 

“ Let’s go see,” said another. 

So over to the fence they scrambled and 
quickly they lined up beside their big brother 
and looked through the fence too. 

“ Lovely green meadow,” said one. 

“ Pretty good eating no doubt,” said 
another. 


[ 94 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘And we can’t get over there because 
this old fence is in the way,” whined the 
biggest pig. 

“ Let’s knock the fence down,” said a 
fourth resolutely. 

They tried and they tried, but the fence 
wouldn’t move. Finally they decided to 
push all together in a rush and — down 
tumbled the fence with a crash! Through 
the opening they scrambled, all seven to- 
gether, pell-mell out into the big green 
meadow. 

Over and over the pretty meadow they 
hunted for food, but when twilight came they 
all ambled back' to the corner that had been 
fenced in. 

“ It’s very queer,” said the biggest pig as 
he comfortably swallowed some of the good 
supper he found waiting him in the corner, 
“ that meadow looked so wonderful through 
the fence, but really and truly it’s only a 
very common meadow — not half as com- 
fortable as our own home corner.” 

[ 95 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


The other pigs grunted as they gobbled 
their supper, and then they all settled down 
contentedly and went to sleep. Home was 
good enough for them. 


[ 96 ] 


PRIDE AND A FALL 


/^^NE bright sunny day a pompous green- 
and-black beetle decided to go for a 
walk. He cleaned his feet; he cleaned his 
head ; he brushed his body and he polished his 
wings. He prepared the most careful toilet 
a beetle could possibly make. 

Then he looked himself over thoughtfully 
and said, “ There’s no doubt about it, I am 
the handsomest beetle that ever was made! ” 

He started on his walk. “ And look how 
beautifully I walk! So stately and so slow! 
Was there ever such a wonderful beetle in 
all the world? ” 

“ Oh yes, lots of them,” said a sparrow 
who happened to hear what the beetle said. 
“ And they all think themselves very wonder- 
ful— all of them.” 

“ Too bad, too bad, poor creatures,” said 
[ 97 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


the beetle pityingly, “ I’m sorry for their 
ignorance. But you must excuse them. 
They have never seen me.” And he waddled 
off in his grandest style. 

The sparrow watched him till he was out 
of sight and then he laughed and laughed; 
he laughed so hard he could hardly fly and 
tell his mates the joke. “ That old beetle’s 
going to come to grief some day, you mark 
my words,” he added at the end of his story. 
“They always do when they brag about 
themselves that way.” 

The beetle never thought of anything 
happening to himself; he felt sure he was 
way above all danger of accident. He 
waddled along, thinking of his lovely velvet 
fur and his beautiful shiny black wings and 
his polished manners and he never even 
thought of watching for danger. 

Till all of a sudden, he saw before him 
a big, glossy blackbird. 

“ You look fat and juicy; I think I’ll eat 
you up,” said the blackbird. 

[ 98 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


The beetle looked around to see who he 
could be talking about. 

‘‘ I mean you'' added the blackbird, hop- 
ping about the beetle. 

“ME?” exclaimed the horrified beetle. 
“ I’m not to eat ! I’m a grand creature made 
to walk around and be admired.” 

“Well, well, well! You don’t say so,” 
laughed the blackbird, as if he was very much 
amused, “ as I’ve just had a big dinner, I 
guess I’ll not eat you after all. I’ll just 
show you what happens to conceited folks 
like you.” And with one peck of his sharp 
bill he turned that conceited beetle over onto 
his back. 

The beetle kicked and squirmed and 
begged and pleaded — all in vain. Off to 
his nest the blackbird had flown, and the 
upside-down beetle found that he would have 
to turn over by himself or stay on his back 
forever! 

In shame and distress that boastful beetle 
worked for hours to regain his footing. 

[ 99 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


When he finally righted himself, a very sub- 
dued and humble beetle crawled back in 
silence to his home. 

And he never again boasted. 



[ 100 ] 


THE BLACKBIRD’S BATH 


dull gray week in the spring the 
water drops poured down from the 
sky so fast that people began to forget there 
had ever been any sunshine, and they quite 
forgot the color of the smiley blue sky. 

Dmdng one morning late in this same dull 
gray week, two blackbirds sat on the branch 
of a big pine tree and tried to think of some- 
thing to say. (You can fancy yourself how 
hard it would be to find anything to say if 
you had been eating and sitting and lying 
and sleeping in the rain for days and days!) 
The first three days they had been very cheer- 
ful about the rain. They had called the 
downpour “ showers ” and had planned 
what they would do when the sun shone again. 
But by the fourth day they got very tired 
and they spent most of the time just sitting 
[ 101 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


glumly still and wishing for sunshine. By 
the fifth day they were too disgusted for 
even that — they couldn’t wish any more, so 
they just sat. 

Finally one of the pair roused himself to 
remark, “ I had planned to take a bath this 
morning.” 

“A bath!” exclaimed the other with a 
disgusted squawk. “A bath! Can’t you 
think of anything more agreeable than a 
bath this wet day? ” 

Now, the first blackbird had not seriously 
planned a bath — he had merely remarked a 
passing thought. But as soon as his com- 
panion objected, he immediately discovered 
that a bath was the one thing he really wanted 
in life. “ Yes, a bath,” he declared posi- 
tively. “ I want to take one today.” 

“ Well, help yourself,” squawked his com- 
panion,” there’s surely enough water about ! ” 

“ Oh, I don’t mean a rain bath,” said the 
first blackbird, “ I mean a really truly bath 
in a nice little puddle.” And then he began 
[ 102 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

to look around. There were so many pud- 
dles he had plenty to choose from; big pud- 
dles, little puddles, muddy ’ puddles and 
grassy puddles, in fact there seemed nothing 
but puddles anywhere! He hopped down 
to the edge of the branch, then down to the 
ground he jumped and carefully he inspected 
every puddle he saw. 

“ Better come down and have some fun! ” 
he called to his companion, “ investigating is 
lots more fun than just standing still.” But 
the sulky blackbird only ruffled his feathers 
a little more and gave out an ugly squawk — 
and the water dripped and dripped from his 
tail and from his bill. 

Finally, just as the energetic blackbird 
was having a hard time to decide between 
two very tempting looking puddles, the sulky 
blackbird glanced out of the corner of his 
eye and spied a beautiful crystal-clear pud- 
dle in the grass just under the next tree. It 
was a regular invitation bathing pool. 

Instantly his crossness was gone! He 
[ 103 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


gave a happy crj^ and darted down into the 
water. 

The other blackbird left his two puddles 
and came a-flying to the fun. They splashed 
and they splattered and they had the gayest 
possible time — all in the pelting rain. 

“Do 5^ou know,” said one, as they finally 
flew back to their tree refreshed and invigor- 
ated, “ I believe we could always have fun in 
the rain if we would only hunt around and 
find it!” 


[ 104 ] 


A FOOLISH OLD ROOSTER 


FOOLISH old rooster once lived in a 



chicken house close by the alley fence. 
How do I know he was foolish do you ask? 
The easiest and surest way in the world. He 
thought he knew everything and that’s the 
best possible proof that he knew nothing. 

All he really did know was that he could 
crow louder than anyone of his acquaintance, 
and he used that little knowledge all the 
time. If any other cock said, “ This is a 
very nice day,” he immediately said, “ It 
isn’t! It isn’t! It isn’t! ” Until everyone was 
glad of the chance to have quiet and so 
didn’t try to dispute him. And he, stupid 
fellow that he was, thought that proved he 
was right. 

" Now one night an automobile with glaring 
big headlights came down that very alley. 
And just by the chicken house a nail bit into 


[ 105 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


the tire and the automobile had to stop and 
rest awhile so that the driver could say some 
things and do some things to that poor, 
punctured tire. And all the while he was 
saying and doing the glaring lights from that 
automobile fell full on the chicken house. 

Pretty soon the rooster who was always 
.right, had a queer dream of bright sunlight 
and he wakened up suddenly to find a bright 
white light shining into every crack of the 
chicken house — into every crack and corner. 
“ That’s queer,” he muttered, “ day has come 
already and I feel just as tired as when I 
went to roost.” 

Then he looked across the house and in the 
glare of the great light he saw the other 
roosters and all the hens sound asleep. 
“ Stupid things! Why don’t you wake up? 
Wakity, wakity, wakity up ! ” he screeched in 
his loudest voice — which was pretty loud. 

“ Stop waking me up! ” grumbled a hen 
nearby, “can’t you see that’s only a light?” 

“ Only a light ? ” exclaimed the rooster 
[ 106 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


scornfully, “ I guess I know a day when I 
see one ! W akity ! W akity ! W akity up ! 
and he crowed as loud as ever he could. 

All over the neighborhood the chickens 
heard him. Some crowed back “ Good morn- 
ing! ’’ and some cackled crossly, “ Silly! Go 
to sleep! till that alley sounded like a whole 
poultry show. 

And just then the automobile driver 
finished mending his tire; cranked up and 
drove away and the darkness of night settled 
over that alley. 

“Now I. guess you’ll go to sleep!” said 
one old rooster crossly. 

“ I guess I’ll not! I guess I know a day 
when I see one,” sputtered the know-it-all 
rooster spitefully and into the night he 
crowed,. “ W akity ! W akity ! W akity up ! ” 

But it really was very dark you know — 
and he had worked hard all day and every- 
body else was sound asleep now and could 
not argue back — and — so — he went to 
sleep too! 


[ 107 ] 


SUE’S PRESENT 


S UE’S father was going on a fishing trip 
and Sue could not go along. Of course 
father explained that fishing trips were no 
fun for little girls, and mother talked about 
the mosquitoes and the camp fare and every- 
thing that she could think of that was 
disagreeable about the trip. But still the 
little girl felt a bit forlorn and deserted when 
her father started off without her. 

‘‘ Never mind, Sue,” called her father, as 
the train pulled out of the station, “ I’ll send 
you my very first catch.” 

So Sue watched for the mail man every 
day and wondered and wondered what he 
would bring her. 

She had not long to wait. 

The third day after father left, the 
parcel-post wagon stopped in front of her 
[ 108 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

house and the carrier brought in a great box 
addressed to Sue. 

“ What in the world? ” exclaimed Sue’s 
mother when she saw the box. “ Has he sent 
an aquarium? I told him to have the fish 
dressed before he sent them.” 

Wonderingly she tore the lid oft’ the box 
and cautiously she peered inside. 

And what do you suppose she saw? 

A turtle ! Y es, sir ! A great, big, lumber- 
ing turtle. 

What in the world could they do with that ? 

“ Father said he would send me the first 
thing he caught and he has ! ” cried Sue as she 
danced around happily. 

“ He certainly has,” agreed mother, “ and 
now what are we going to do with it? ” 

Of course something had to be done, and 
that quickly, as the turtle could not stay in 
the box all the time. So everybody in the 
house turned in and helped. A tub in which 
a few stones were scattered was placed in the 
back yard in a spot where it could get both 
[ 109 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


shade and sunshine. Some crackers were 
crumbed into the water that Sue’s mother 
poured into the tub and everybody watched 
to see the turtle eat. 

But the turtle didn’t eat. At least he 
didn’t eat when anyone could see him. And 
as the Mays went by he visibly pined away. 
He got sleepy and thin and was plainly so 
homesick that Sue’s mother was at her wit’s 
end to know w’^at to do with him. 

At last father came home, and of course 
he at once offered advice. 

He made a new home in a new tub and he 
put flies and minnows in the water in a most 
tempting fashion. But still the turtle pined 
and pined, so they decided to set him 
free. 

After an early dinner one day, father 
put the turtle in a basket and he and Sue set 
out for the city park. When they reached 
the little lagoon in the park, father set the 
basket down on the tiny beach, lifted out 
the turtle and started him for the water. 

[ 110 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


At &st the turtle only blinked lazily ; then 
he stretched his neck toward the water ; then, 
as fast as he could waddle, he made for the 
lake! 

And there he lived a long, happy life. 

This is the true story of how a great big, 
big turtle happened to be living in a tiny, 
tiny lake in the city park. 



[HI] 


MR. ROBIN CHANGES HIS MIND 
NE fine summer day the sun shone so 



bright and warm that a lazy young 
robin decided to take the day oif from work. 
For some time he had been thinking to him- 
self that he could have much more fun if 
only he didn’t have to scratch for worms. 
Why, he could sing and play and take long, 
exploring journeys and really enjoy life, if 
it were not for this same old eating and 
worm hunting which took so much time every 


day. 


The more he thought about it the crosser 
it made him, and the harder it was to hunt 
worms. (You know yourself that the more 
you complain about work, the harder work 
is to do.) To be sure worms always tasted 
very good, but Mr. Robin didn’t happen to 
think about that. 

On this particular morning he wakened 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


after an extra fine sleep and found himself 
feeling unusually strong and brave. “ I’m 
tired of wishing I didn’t have to work,” he 
said to himself. “ Today I am not going to 
work one bit! I don’t care if I don’t have 
any worms — what are worms anyway? ” 

Having shouted that note of independence 
from the edge of his nest, he felt more brave 
and important than ever. He preened his 
feathers, stretched his neck and thought what 
an unusually smart and handsome bird he 
w^as. 

But as no one was around to notice, he 
soon became tired of showing himself off. 
“ I guess I’ll take that journey I’ve been 
wishing for,” he said, and off he went. 

He flew a long, long way till he came to 
a river where he got a drink and stopped to 
rest a while. By this time he began to feel 
queer — very, very queer. Queerer than he 
had ever felt before in all his little well-fed 
life. But he wouldn’t admit that he was 
hungiy — not he ! He pretended very hard 
[US] 


GOOD NIGHT STORIES 


that he didn’t want a bit to eat and he started 
again on his journey. 

After a while he stopped in a yard where 
the grass was green and fresh and where 
some little chickens were playing and others 
were scratching for worms. 

“ That’s a good place for worms,” said 
Mr. Robin, as he eyed the moist soil hungrily, 
“ I guess I’ll get me some.” And then he 
remembered that he wasn’t bothering with 
worms that day and he turned his attention 
to the chickens who were playing. 

But try as hard as he could, digging worms 
seemed more interesting than any game — 
he couldn’t keep his eyes off those chicks who 
were finding such good eating! 

Finally one little chick pulled out a fine, 
fat worm and dangled it squirmingly from 
his bill. That was too much for Mr. Robin. 
He suddenly forgot all his fine-sounding 
ambitions and he realized that worms were 
what he wanted and here was a chance to 
get one without work ! 

[ 114 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 



Quick as a flash, he darted down, snatched 
that worm, and swallowed it whole. 

For an instant the chickens stared with 
amazement; then with a rush, they flew at 
that Mr. Robin and pecked at him and 
[ 115 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


screamed at him till he was glad to fly hastily 
back to his own home yard. 

“ I guess I’ve learned something today,” 
said he as ^oon as he found his breath after 
his quick flying, ‘‘ I’ve learned that I must 
eat, and that it is wiser and better to work 
than to steal.” And he promptly set to dig- 
ging his breakfast. 


[ 116 ] 


KITTY LOU’S TOOTHACHE 


TTJOOR little Kitty Lou was in trouble. 
^ She didn’t feel like playing; she wasn’t 
hungry; she didn’t seem to herself one bit 
like the nice, playful little kitty who usually 
had such a good, happy time all the day long. 
And she had no idea what could be the mat- 
ter. She only knew that her head felt ten 
sizes too big for her and that she couldn’t 
eat a bite without having the most dreadful 
pain. How she did wish that someone would 
talk to her and help her ! 

She went to her little mistress and softly 
rubbed her nose against her dress. But the 
little mistress, Mary Jane, was very busy 
with a bran-new doll so she merely reached 
down and stroked Kitty Lou a time or two — 
that was all. 

Big brother Ked, to whom Kitty I^ou next 
appealed, only laughed when Kitty Lou 
[ 117 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


rubbed her head and whined dismally. “No, 
sir, you don’t fool me again. Miss Kitty! ” 
said he, “ I remember how you whined and 
fussed last week. And how I stopped my 
work to see what was the matter with you 
only to find out that all you wanted was a 
romp! You can’t fool me twice the same 
way.” And Ned went oh with his whittling. 

That was just the trouble. Kitty Lou was 
BO mischievous and so frolicsome that usually 
all she did was to romp, so now that she 
needed help no one took her seriously. 

She stood on the front porch awhile, grind- 
ing her teeth together and finding that that 
only made the hurt worse; then she sat down 
on her pillow near the porch swing and cried 
and cried and cried. 

Before long Mary Jane’s mother came 
out on the porch with her mending basket 
and settled herself for an hour’s work. 
“ Oh, Kitty Lou,” she said, when she heard 
the kitten’s mournful crying, “ aren’t you 
ashamed to cry like that? ” 

[ 118 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


But Kitty Lou only cried the harder. 

“ How am I to work when you cry that 
way? ” said Mary Jane’s mother in distress. 

If I didn’t know how^ you cry and fuss to 
be played with, I would say you were in 
pain,” she added. “ Come here, Kitty Lou, 
and let me look at you.” 

That was all the encouragement Kitty 
Lou needed. She jumped up into her 
mistress’s lap and cried hard, just as though 
she was trying to say, “ Please believe me, 
something hurts ! ” 

Mary J ane’s mother looked the little kitten 
over thoughtfully. Then she said, “ Kitty 
Lou, I believe you have a toothache. We’ll 
just take you to a doctor and have that 
naughty tooth fixed.” 

So Mary Jane was called from her new 
doll and Kitty Lou was tucked snugly in a 
nice roomy basket and carried to the doctor’s 
house. The achy tooth was pulled out, and, 
for the first time in three whole days, dainty 
little Kitty Lou wanted to play. 

[ 119 ] 


GALA DAY IN SQUIRREL LAND 

M onday, Tuesday, Wednesday, 
Thursday, Friday, Saturday.” 

“ Those days are all gone and now it’s 
Sunday.” 

“ Ho, ho, but I am glad! ” 

“ Glad ! Glad ! Glad I So am I ! ” 

“ And four little voices gave one jolly, all- 
together, squeak. 

Have you guessed who was talking? Who 
was so glad to have Sunday come? No? 
The squirrels in the big city park! 

Now, of course you can guess why they 
liked Sunday the best day of all. Because 
that is the day when children visit the parks. 
To be sure, children go on other days too, 
but on Sundays they go with their fathers, 
and you know how good fathers are about 
buying nuts and goodies that children and 
squirrels both like. 

[ 120 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


On this particular Sunday, Brownie had 
wakened with the feeling that something nice 
was going to happen but he couldn’t quite 
think what. Maybe you feel that way your- 
self sometimes and so know how it is. Then 
he wakened up a little more and remembered 
that it was Sunday. Sunday? Yes, Sun- 
day. And he began combing his hair and 
sprucing his tail for he wanted to look his 
very best. 

Somehow or other he primped, got a bite of 
breakfast, and put in the time till the children 
began to come and then what fun he had ! 

First came his friend Tommy with one 
peanut in each pocket. Brownie always 
liked that because then he could nose deep 
into the dark, warm pockets and get the 
goodie. 

Then came Dick and his father. They 
walked through the park on their way to 
church and they both had good nuts for 
Brownie, you may be sure. 

So all through the day the children came, 
[ 121 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


and grown folks too, till actually Brownie 
couldn’t eat another nut. 

“ Silly, why worry about that! ” laughed 
Gray Tail, to whom Brownie complained 
about his lack of appetite. “ Store them 
away for a rainy day as I do.” 

“ Fine idea,” declared Brownie happily, 
and just at that minute Dorothy and her 
father walked down the path through the 
bushes. They had peanuts and popcorn — 
oh, such a lot of nice fresh popcorn I — and 
they spilled some down on the path for 
Brownie. 

Such riches! ‘‘Come, come, come!” 
squeaked Brownie happily, “ come friends, 
here’s nuts and plenty for all!” And he 
ran busily back and forth, back and forth 
between the heap of goodies and the bushes, 
storing up a neat little pile of his own, which 
he planned to bury later. 

All the squirrels came a-running and 
Dorothy clapped her hands and watched 
them scurrying hither and thither, eating 
[ 122 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


what they could and carrying the rest away. 

And just then, when everybody was so 
busy and happy, what do you suppose hap- 
pened ? 

Nine, bold, black crows spied the popcorn; 
swooped down and gobbled it up right under 
the astonished noses of the squirrels! Ate 
up every bit! And then flew away, leaving 
the squirrels too amazed to speak ! 

When Brownie at last found his voice he 
declared, “ Next time I have a feast like that. 
I’ll take time to bury each bite as I get it. 
Then it will be safe! ” And he did. 



[12S] 


A HIGHLY CULTIVATED 
MOUSE 


NCE upon a time a Highly Cultivated 



mouse lived in a common pantry. 
And, as you have guessed, there was a reason 
for his being there. 

That wonderful H. C. mouse had a very 
common mother and she had always lived 
in a very common pantry, and of course she 
brought up her children to live in the same 
place, so you mustn’t blame the children 
too much. And you mustn’t blame the 
mother either, for, you see, she had a very 
large family, and knowing that it was easier 
to get food in the pantry it was quite natural 
that she should want to live there — quite. 

For some time the whole mouse family 
lived very happily till suddenly one day the 
H. C. mouse felt that something was wrong. 

“ I’m a wonderful creature,” he said to 


[ 124 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 



himself musingly, “ quite different from my 
common brothers and sisters. I feel an 
inward yearning — ” 


“ Maybe you’re hungry,” interrupted his 
mother, who happened to hear him talking. 
“ There’s a new box of crackers on the third 
shelf. It won’t take you long to get into 
them — the paper is very thin.” 

“ Why will you bother me with such com- 
mon thoughts? ” asked the H. C. mouse 
crossly, “ this yearning of urine is my grow- 
ing soul, my — ” 

“Humph! I hope you get over that 
soon! ” exclaimed his mother disgustedly, 
[ 125 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

and with a little flirt of her tail she scampered 
away. 

“ Alas! How little is one appreciated! ” 
sighed the H. C. mouse (he thought he was 
making a very original remark too — you 
see, he didn’t know that every highly culti- 
vated person in the world says the same 
thing!) ‘'I’m tired of playing in such a 
common place anyway. I think I’ll move.” 
So he straightened his tail firmly and moved 
into the living room where he found a very 
comfortable apartment in the back of the 
piano. 

“ Now, this is what I call a suitable place 
to live,” said he, with a luxurious sigh, and 
he settled down to enjoy comfort and culture. 

Now, the worst thing about comfort and 
culture is that very often they won’t go 
together. And though the H. C. mouse 
became very wise as he listened to brilliant 
conversation and very cultured as he heard 
fine music, he also became very hungry, 
because he had nothing to eat. 

[ 126 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“What is hunger?” he asked himself 
scornfully, “ I am above anything so com- 
mon I ” But just the same he pricked up his 
ears when, later in the evening, he smelled 
cheese. 

“ I think I had better investigate this most 
gratifying odor,” he said to himself (and his 
eyes brightened hungrily), “for cheese 
served in a living room must be especially 
fine!” 

So sneaking out from behind the piano, 
he crept slyly along the floor towards the 
delectable smelling cheese. 

Suddenly there was a click — a scratch — 
and all was still. 

In the morning a child’s voice called, 
“ Father, come here quick! You’ve caught 
the mouse! ” 

Which only shows that a pantry is a pretty 
good place to live in, after all. 


[ 127 ] 


BROWN TAIL’S ADVENTURE 


F L AP-FLAP-FLAP ! ” 

“ Flop-flop-flop!” 

What in the world could make that 
funny noise? 

“ Flap-flap-flap!” 

“ Flop-flop-flop! ” 

Brown Tail, a handsome young rabbit, 
poked his nose enquiringly through the 
garden gate. 

“ Flap-flap-flap! ” 

“ Flop-flop-flop!” 

That was too much for Brown Tail. His 
curiosity got the better of his caution and 
he determined to discover the cause of this 
queer noise and to discover it quickly. What 
did he care if his mother had told him to stay 
near home? Or that his father had said that 
the farmer’s garden was one place where wise 
and obedient little rabbits never went alone? 
[ 128 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

What, indeed, would any up-to-date young 
rabbit care for father’s or mother’s advice if 
an interesting adventure was just on the 
other side of a fence? 

Brown Tail poked his nose through the 
wddest crack and looked around. 

“Flap-flap-flap!” 

“ Flop-flop-flop! ” 

“ There it is again,” he exclaimed, “ and 
I’m quite sure that if my father were here 
he would say, ‘ Brown Tail, go at once and 
discover what that noise is ! ’ He had no 
idea such a thing as a noise would happen 
when he told me not to go into the garden. 
A noise makes a difference.” And Brown 
Tail talked so positively to himself that he 
became quite excited and finally decided it 
was his duty — his really-truly, bounden 
duty — to go and investigate that noise. 

Through the garden fence he wiggled; 
under the spreading tomato vines he crawled 
and over toward the cabbage patch. 

“ Flap-flap-flap!” 

[ 129 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“ Flop-flop-flop ! ” 

Yes, there was where the sound was. It 
undoubtedly came from the cabbage patch 
close over by the chicken yard. Now, the 
cabbage patch is the most interesting place 
in the whole garden — at least that is the 
opinion of Brown Tail’s family — so of 
course he didn’t mind exploring in that direc- 
tion. Not only didn’t mind, but he was 
quite willing to stop long enough to nibble 
a few "tender cabbage leaves. 

“ My, but these are good,” he said as he 
crunched the leaves daintily. “ Too bad my 
little brothers and sisters have to miss all 
this fun simply because father and mother 
have an idea that this peaceful garden is 
dangerous. I mean to tell them how mis- 
taken — ” 

“ Bow-ow-ow ! Bow-ow-ow ! ” It was the 
big watchdog’s bark. 

Poor little Brown Tail turned sick with 
fright. A glimpse through the cabbage leaves 
showed him not only the dog but the farmer 
[ 130 ] 


GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


too, armed with a gun making straight for 
the cabbage patch! 

Brown Tail summoned all his courage and 
ran ! Ran for dear life toward home ! “ And 
if I ever get safely home,” he panted, “ I’ll 
mind my father all the rest of my life! ” 

And he did. 

But the noise? Haven’t you guessed? It 
was only the old scarecrow flapping, flop- 
ping, in the summer breeze. 



[ 181 ] 





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